Phased and Confused
by Roguie
Summary: The explorers are separated from each other while on an extended trip. Will Roxton find Marguerite before her wounds get the best of her? Or will she perish alone, deep in the jungle, while searching for home? Part Six Uploaded Jan 7/03
1. Opening the Wound

A/N: Okay, I said I wasn't going to do this again, but now, thanks to dear Veggie and her being a sounding board, I have a good idea where this is going, so you're getting a chapter fic by parts here. I have no idea how long this is going to be, but rest assured, it will be M/R... can't give you a full rating just yet, but knowing me it'll probably be at least PG-13 if not R for a chapter here or there. I am currently about half way through the next part, so you'll have an update before the end of the week. :)  
  
Disclaimer: They're quite obviously not mine; just because my boss continually calls me Marguerite these days doesn't make them mine either. But that's cool, cause if they were mine, The Lost World wouldn't be able to be shown on TV. :) They belong to whom they belong to, I just like to borrow them at times and mutate their inner voices.  
  
  
Phased and Confused  
  
Part One: Opening a Wound  
  
By: Danae Bowen  
  
Email: logansfox@rogers.com  
  
  
  
She was hot. Sticky. Sweaty. Dirty. Smelly, even. She was down right disgusting.  
  
Marguerite Krux resisted the urge to complain bitterly to her companions as they trudged through the endless jungle that three years ago became their home. They were all as filthy as she, some more so than others, Marguerite wryly noted, staring at the dust drenched hunter standing near to her side. Of course, a little dirt on Lord John Roxton did nothing but make the man even more appealing, she thought to herself, eying him with a boldness she rarely displayed when he was watching.  
  
Marguerite hardly took note as their already grueling pace increased, her thoughts so intent on the good Lord and hunter that when Veronica came to a sudden halt, Marguerite was hard pressed not to trip on the blonde jungle girl and disgrace them both. The heiress opened her mouth to make a biting comment, pausing only to listen for the tell tale signs of raptors or other predators before she gave voice to her thoughts; it was then, as she stood in silence, the trickle of a near by stream reached her ears.  
  
Her large gray eyes took on a glee filled light, and she drew her lower lip between her teeth in excitement. "We are stopping by the water, aren't we?" She queried, glancing from the dirty face of one explorer to the other.  
  
After a moment, Veronica nodded. "Of course, Marguerite, we need to refill our canteens, and we all could use a bath." She wrinkled her nose as she came to stand next to George Challenger.   
  
Marguerite smiled ruefully. "Yes, some of you are growing rather ripe."  
  
"Some of us, Marguerite?" That infuriating sound, that tone that meant trouble, that voice that sent shivers of pure arousal down her spine and caused her heart to momentarily stop beating. "And when was your last bath, my dear? You've been treading along the same paths as we, and are no better for it either."  
  
Marguerite sniffed indelicately, raising her head in indignation. "Yes, Lord Roxton, but a gentleman should never point out a lady's aromatic state. Didn't your mother teach you anything?"  
  
"She taught me enough that if you're not careful, you'll end up in the river, clothes and all, before long." His eyes twinkled at her dangerously, daring her to push a little harder. Instead, Marguerite tossed him her hat and pack, sending him a scathing glance over her shoulder.  
  
"Yes, well, your little threat just bought you second in the river, John. Veronica?" She paused as the blonde turned her way, flashing the younger woman a smile. "I believe today it's ladies first. The men will have to wallow in their own filth for an hour longer while we get the worst of it off ourselves."  
  
Veronica shook her head, a tiny knowing smile curving her lips upwards. "Whatever you say, Marguerite," she agreed wisely, tossing Roxton a helpless look and a shrug as she followed the heiress through the trees towards the river nearby.  
  
Roxton and Challenger watched the women move away silently before the scientist patted the hunter on the shoulder and offered him a hand with his extra load. "Never mind, lad. You know our Marguerite, it's always something with her."  
  
"Yes. Always something." Roxton's voice was thoughtful as he appraised Marguerite's retreating form until the women had faded from view. "If you're not back in an hour, Marguerite, I'm coming after you! Decency be damned!" he called in vain, his only response her light laughter drifting back to him on the wind, daring him to try.  
  
***  
  
True to his word, when an hour passed and still the women hadn't returned, Roxton climbed to his feet, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he gave Challenger a pointed look. "She can't say I didn't warn her."  
  
Challenger sighed quietly, waving the younger man off as he began a new examination of several plant species he'd discovered earlier in the day. "Do what you must, Roxton, just be mindful of Veronica. She may not be pleased coming in between one of your battles."  
  
"If the girl has any sense at all, George, she'd have gotten out of that stream long ago. This is all Marguerite's doing, I'd bet my hat on it."  
  
Remembering something Finn had told him about Lord Roxton and his hat, George Challenger merely lifted an eyebrow. "If Marguerite has anything to say about it, old boy, I'm afraid you might end up doing just that. She's worse than a barracuda when she's in these moods, John, you know that as well as I."  
  
"I can take care of myself, Challenger, I'm a big boy now, and I've since learned how to handle Marguerite."  
  
"Think what you may, but to date no man has truly learned how to handle a woman, especially not a woman like our Marguerite." Challenger smiled then, his eyes gentling. "If she bests you, I'd expect not to hear any complaining on the matter."  
  
"She won't, but if she tries, I won't complain; I'll guarantee you that."  
  
Challenger chuckled. "I don't doubt it for an instant. Send Veronica back when you find them, I'd like to see if she can gather any more of this plant before sundown. It has an interesting sap in its veins; I'd like to gather a greater sample for study on its uses."  
  
"Consider it done, Challenger. Keep an eye out." Roxton turned away from the aging scientist, giving a last listen to the jungle surrounding them for predators before becoming a predator himself. His prey waited just ahead, unrealizing the danger she'd gotten herself into this time.  
  
"Game's on, Marguerite. Come out, come out, wherever you are."  
  
Roxton grinned.  
  
***  
  
"Marguerite, hurry up! Something's coming through the jungle." Veronica eyed the tree line surrounding them with trepidation.  
  
"Relax, Veronica, it's probably just Roxton making true on his latest threat. If he thinks I'm getting out of this glorious water just because he wants me to, he's sorely mistaken. I've been days between baths, and I'll not rush this because of an impatient male."  
  
Veronica shook her head, moving closer to the edge of the water. Her voice lowered drastically, almost to a hiss as she motioned for Marguerite to come forward. "If that's Roxton out there, then he's gained a good ton or better. Whatever's coming is big. Very big."  
  
Marguerite sighed, turning to look at the blonde girl who'd only just moments before finished dressing. The heiress's expression darkened, however, when she saw the pale hue to Veronica's tanned skin, and the hunting knife held securely in the young woman's hand. Veronica never readied herself unless she believed in the danger approaching. It was enough to force Marguerite from the pond, desperately pulling on first her blouse then her stubborn pants who refused to climb easily up the woman's damp flesh. The dark haired beauty was just finishing lacing her boots when the trees parted to her left, expelling a hissing, snarling raptor into their midst.  
  
"Oh, great, just what we need," Marguerite groaned, pulling her pistol from the holster that still lay upon the damp ground.  
  
"Marguerite, to your left."  
  
The older woman turned, spying another raptor just before it leapt into full sight. Reflex took over, firing the gun instantly, winging the carnivorous beast before Marguerite steadied her nerves and her hand for a second shot. The second bullet pierced the creature's brain, dropping it dead to the ground.  
  
Air hissed by Marguerite's body and she turned quickly, only to catch herself as she was pressed forward by a dying raptor, expertly felled by Veronica's knife. The creature's claws burned into Marguerite's back, the heiress stifling a scream of pain, even as the light faded from it's yellow eyes and its lifeless body dropped to the ground.  
  
"Marguerite! Are you okay?" The blonde made a move to come forward, but Marguerite quickly pulled herself to her feet, straightening, ignoring the pain wrenching through her shoulder and back. Keeping her front facing Veronica, hiding the blood slowly dripping down her pale flesh, she moved towards her dead attacker.  
  
"Good shot," Marguerite muttered truthfully, glancing at the blonde with gratitude before pulling free Veronica's knife and tossing it back to the jungle raised girl.  
  
"We're not through yet!" Veronica cried as three more raptors advanced upon them. The women fell back-to-back, only scant space between them keeping Marguerite's dark blood from staining the jungle girl's bronzed skin. They turned as one with the circling raptors, each searching for a shot that wouldn't leave them open for the final raptor's attack. Swallowing back a moment of weakness, her head growing light as the pain in her back intensified with movement, Marguerite raised her gun, aiming quickly at the eye of the nearest dinosaur, praying Veronica was readying herself for a similar attack. She pulled the trigger. Before the sound of gunfire had even registered, Marguerite spun, felling a second raptor even as Veronica quickly disposed of the remaining creature.  
  
Both women were panting heavily with exertion, circling in place as they scanned the tree line for signs of any further dinosaur activity. No leaves rustled, no branches crackled, and soon the sound of birds and animal activity returned to normal. Marguerite glanced at Veronica, both sighing in relief as they turned to gather their remaining belongings, suddenly eager to rejoin the men and the relative safety of their full number. Moments later, Veronica gasped, finally catching sight of the red staining Marguerite's once white blouse.  
  
"You stupid woman! Why didn't you tell me you were wounded?!" Veronica's cry contained more fear than it did vehemence as she dropped to her knees beside the wounded heiress, gingerly glancing through the rends in Marguerite's shirt to the rends in the older woman's flesh.  
  
Marguerite flashed her a guarded grin, "Didn't occur to me that you'd care," she said, trying to make her tone sound light through her pain tightened vocal chords.  
  
"You'd better be kidding, Marguerite." Veronica ran her hands through her wild blonde hair, quickly scanning the jungle for familiar plants. "Stay here, we need to find something to close those wounds."  
  
Marguerite waved her off, "Just let's get back to camp first; Challenger can work his magic while you're off finding something horribly smelly that will most likely destroy my skin."  
  
"Are you sure you're able to walk?"  
  
Marguerite's token pained smile was in place, "If you're offering to carry me, Veronica, I'm afraid I'll have to decline."  
  
Veronica matched Marguerite's smile with a tentative grin of her own. "You're right; after all, I wouldn't want to make Roxton jealous."  
  
The older woman snorted indelicately, laughing into the palm of her hand even as her mirth somehow eased the pain in her back. "I'll be fine. Faster we start, the quicker we'll be back at camp." She glanced around, frowning suddenly. "I wonder how it is the men aren't already here. They'd have to have heard our shots, they're not more than ten minutes away."  
  
Veronica shrugged, sudden worry lines appearing in her forehead. "Marguerite, you'd best stay here. If they were attacked, Roxton might not have gotten a shot off, or they might have had to take cover and are waiting for back up. Your blood is going to attract anything hunting them." She shook her head. "You're right, though. If they could be here, they would have been by now. I'm going to find out."  
  
"Veronica..."  
  
"No, Marguerite. Stay. I can do this faster and easier without you." Veronica quickly walked to the edge of the jungle, picking up an armful of leaves and bringing them back to the heiress. "Wash off as much blood as you can, break open the stems and apply the sap to as much of your wounds as you can. It'll help mask the flow of blood and it quickens clotting. I'll be back as soon as I can."  
  
Marguerite looked at her in concern. "And if you don't come back."  
  
Veronica frowned, then lifted her finger and pointed towards the east. "The tree house is there. Follow the rising sun and you'll reach it within two days." She paused again. "But I will be back. With the men."  
  
Marguerite's voice was small as she watched the blonde woman, so like a sister, disappear into the once again too quiet jungle. "Be careful."  
  
****  
  
End Part One 


	2. Bleeding Wounds

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews... you people just astound me, y'know that? Never met a more supportive bunch then y'all. So, thank you. :D  
  
A/N 2: Now this doesn't quite explain what's happening, but hey, c'mon, this is the Lost World... can't have the explanations before dear sweet George gets to have his fun figuring things out. :D Hopefully, y'all will get the hints though... something's not quite right on the plateau. :D  
  
A/N 3: Third chapter should be ready hopefully by early next week, if not sooner. My normally wise eema, tralk of a muse is cooperating atm, and so far she's quite happy with the way things are going. :D Hopefully she'll keep things up so there isn't too much time between chapters. :D  
  
Disclaimer: Please see Part One ((as Dani runs around with a crazed gleam in her eye... they're mine all mine all mine I tell you!!! ... Wait... wait... who are you people? What's with the white jackets? No really... I swear... they're mine! :P))  
  
  
Phased and Confused  
  
Part Two: Bleeding Wounds  
  
By: Danae Bowen  
  
Email: logansfox@rogers.com  
  
  
Roxton's frown deepened as he reached the river and there was no sign of either woman. "Marguerite?" he called loudly, scanning the small riverbank as well as the expanse of water for her dark hair. When Marguerite continued to evade his sight, Roxton stepped forward, glancing first to the right and then the left, finally catching sight of the bodies of five raptors, obviously felled in the middle of an attack.  
  
"Marguerite! Veronica!" Roxton's voice took on a desperate tinge as his heart began beating wildly in his chest. Running towards the bodies of the raptors, he quickly scanned the area, instantly catching sight of strips of Marguerite's blouse caught on the talons of one dead creature.  
  
His face paled and a slight buzzing filled his ears as he froze in place, his mouth turning instantly dry. "Marguerite? Veronica?"  
  
There are no signs that they had been dragged off, he told himself, instantly attempting to calm his racing mind. There is no blood, and no tracks from any other raptors. They're fine. They've likely just gone back to camp.  
  
Forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath, he turned once more, scanning the clearing one final time to make sure that no signs of either the blonde jungle girl or his beloved, dark haired heiress remained. Finally satisfied, he turned, following the same route back through the jungle, if for no other purpose than to get Challenger so together they could find their missing women. Lord John Roxton was so intent on finding his missing companions that he never even noticed the tiny tingle that ran through his body; after all, it was only a shiver.  
  
****  
  
Marguerite's head shot up as she heard the rustling, watching the trees move almost imperceptibly, but nothing came towards her. She frowned, remaining on guard for another few moments until she was certain no raptors were going to descend on her vulnerable position.   
  
She dipped her fingers delicately into the water, hissing sharply as she poured the cool liquid over the tears in her flesh, washing away dark rivers of blood. A shiver ran down her spine, and once again Marguerite's head jerked up; she couldn't shake the feeling someone else was on the "beach" with her.   
  
"Roxton?" she tried quietly, scanning the tree line quickly. When no response came she raised her voice a little louder. "Veronica? Is that you?" Still she received no response, and she frowned. Shivers of awareness were coursing up and down Marguerite's spine, a feeling she got only when she was in danger, or when Roxton was near. Something wasn't quite right, and Marguerite's nerves were quite suddenly on edge. "This isn't very funny, you know!" She called to her non-existent company, but rather than continue with what she knew to be a ridiculous conversation, she returned to treating her wounds.  
  
Long minutes passed and finally her wounds had slowed their weeping of red. Quickly, before they had a chance to open once again, Marguerite broke open the stems of the leaves Veronica had left her and began pouring the white sap down her back. Unable to reach exactly where the raptors claws had ripped into her, Marguerite had to rely on the force of gravity to carry the sap to where she needed it most. Trickle after trickle of white descended her pale flesh until the heiress was quite sure enough of her wounds had been covered to warrant wrapping her back.  
  
A cursory glance about the clearing informed Marguerite that there was nothing available to turn into a makeshift bandage. Cursing her need to torture Roxton, thereby leaving behind her pack and change of clothing, Marguerite stormed across the clearing, dipping her body in behind a clump of out of the way bushes, coming up triumphantly with her previously ignored camisole. Glancing at the laces, Marguerite nodded. If she tightened the contraption far more than normal, it would make a decent wrapping for her back. She looked over her shoulder and sighed. That would only leave the rending on her shoulder open. Quickly lacing on her camisole, Marguerite hissed in pain as the harsh material rubbed up against her open wounds, but ignored the wave of weakness that flowed through her body in response. Quite the opposite, she returned to her place by the river, picking up her already damaged blouse and tore the sleeves from the nearly useless contraption. Wrapping the sleeves about her bleeding shoulder, she nodded in satisfaction before slipping the remains of her blouse over her body in an attempt at covering her body in a somewhat decent manner.  
  
Having finished tending to her wounds, Marguerite found herself unable to remain by the riverbank. Her fingers twitched in her lap as she peered around the clearing, desperately hoping to see Veronica's blonde hair bobbing towards her, quickly followed by the handsome hunter that set Marguerite's heart to such a rapid beat. Still, the jungle remained quiet but for the birds and creatures scurrying about, carrying on their daily lives.  
  
An hour passed, the sun changing positions drastically in the sky, and a new shiver traveled through Marguerite's body. With the setting of the sun, the night was growing cool, and Marguerite's damaged clothing was offering her no protection against the nip of the rising wind over the river. She had no means by which to make a fire, all her supplies still with Challenger and Roxton, and no blanket with which to cover herself. As the evening grew cooler still, Marguerite made up her mind. Danger or no danger, blood or no blood, she had to return to camp. If she didn't, she'd surely die of exposure before the explorers returned.  
  
Her mind set, Marguerite rose carefully to her feet, her tender flesh complaining against the movement, but nothing she couldn't handle. With a determined step, she moved away from the clearing, stepping into the jungle where night seemed to fall that much quicker under the shroud of ancient trees.  
  
*****  
  
"Challenger! Roxton!" Veronica sped through the trees, her mind so intent on the men she missed a slightly submerged root, catching her foot, stumbling somewhat into the clearing that made up their evening camp. "Challenger!"  
  
"Over here, Veronica." George Challenger's calm voice floated towards the blonde woman, even as she turned in surprise. His eyebrows raised in concern as he took in her state of concern, and he rose to his feet, catching her quickly in his arms. "Veronica, what's happened?"  
  
She clutched him with relief, taking a moment to calm her breathing before stepping out of his fatherly embrace. "Raptors at the river bank. Where's Roxton? Didn't you hear the shots?"   
  
"Gunshots? Lord no, or we'd certainly have come. Roxton left a half hour ago, I was under the impression he was going to find the two of you." He glanced over Veronica's shoulder into the density of the jungle. "Where's Marguerite?"  
  
Veronica shook her head, running a hand through her wild hair. "I left her at the river bank; she was hurt in the attack and when you didn't come to see what happened, we thought you'd been attacked as well. We didn't want to run the risk of attracting further predators with the scent of her blood."  
  
Challenger nodded, his brow now furrowed in concern as he moved to retrieve his pack from the center of camp. "How badly is she hurt? Can she walk? Will she be able to make it back this far?"  
  
Veronica's breathing slowed as she fell into the familiar routine of Challenger's concern for his "children". "She'll be fine, I'm sure. I left her tending to her wounds, but I'm sure she'd be pleased if you had a look at them yourself. I'm more afraid of infection than anything else."  
  
"Too true, my dear, too true." He slung his bag over his shoulder, wincing slightly as his rheumatism gave him pain, then nodded. "I'm ready then; lead on."  
  
Veronica smiled. Until recently she never realized how comforting it was to have someone on which she could always depend... besides herself.  
  
*****  
  
Roxton's concern for his fellow explorers grew by leaps and bounds as he returned to their original campsite and found that not only hadn't the women returned, but Challenger was missing as well.  
  
"Challenger!" he called into the surrounding jungle, believing perhaps the older man had lost patience in waiting for John to send Veronica back. When no response came, Roxton swallowed swiftly.  
  
In an attempt to keep his accelerating heart calm, Roxton swiftly took inventory of their camp. Marguerite's and his packs remained exactly where he'd left them, but Challenger's pack, there only forty minutes before, was no longer in sight. A quick glanced confirmed that the elder man's most recent plant study remained unfinished.   
  
A rustling in the woods caught Roxton's attention and he raised his head, glancing at the trees behind him. "Challenger?" he moved towards the trees, but realized even before he got there that whatever had been moving in the brush was moving away from the camp, not towards it.  
  
Heading back to the center of camp, Roxton turned his eyes to the ground and took note of what he hadn't before. No out of place footsteps. No struggle. No blood. Wherever Challenger had gotten off to, he'd gone willingly.  
  
Quick anger burned in Roxton's blood as he realized George Challenger had merely wandered off. Then his own examination of the clearing where the women had been came back to him. After the initial battle with the raptors, there appeared to be no other signs of struggle, leading him to believe they'd returned here. Marguerite and Veronica, too, had wandered off of their own accords.  
  
"What the hell?" Roxton muttered to himself, glancing about the jungle for any signs of what could have brought this unlikely bout of wanderlust upon his companions. Glancing down at the most recent footprints, Roxton realized Challenger had left in the very same direction from which Roxton had come: towards the river. "What the hell?!"  
  
With a groan, Roxton grabbed his pack off the ground and began to retrace his steps, cursing the now dimming light for hiding further clues from the experienced hunter.  
  
*****  
  
Marguerite carefully retraced her path from earlier, heading directly back to camp. When Veronica left, Marguerite noticed the jungle girl went through the brush rather than their already tread trail, but fearing further predators, as well as getting lost, Marguerite decided to stay with the tried and true.  
  
It took her less than ten minutes to return to the campsite, finding it, as she feared, completely deserted. Her quick eyes noticed that only her pack remained in camp, everyone else's had been taken wherever they'd gone. She frowned, an old fear creeping into her heart that perhaps this entire journey had been a real life Hansel and Gretel nightmare: an attempt to leave Marguerite so deep in the jungle that she'd never be able to find her way home. She bit her lip hard between her teeth, choking back the unsavory thoughts that ran through her rapidly tiring mind.  
  
"No," she told herself firmly. "Something must have happened. They've been taken somewhere, and it'll be up to me to come to their rescue... again."  
  
//But if they've been taken, then why does your pack remain?// Her mind spit the ugly concern out into the open, forcing Marguerite to see what was true. No signs of struggle. No thief would leave behind one pack and take two others. No blood to indicate a dinosaur attack. Wherever her companions had gone, they had gone by choice.  
  
Tears welled up in her large gray eyes, images of her past flooding through her, and sudden loneliness enveloped Marguerite. She dropped to her knees, clutching her head in her hands as she struggled against the memories overwhelming her fragile mind. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she concentrated on slowly drawing the cool air into her lungs, exhaling just as slowly until her pounding heart returned to a normal beat.  
  
When she looked up again, her usually expressive gray eyes were hard, her lips drawn into a thin line. No emotion could be seen on her beautiful face, not even the pain radiating from her burning back as she carefully picked up her pack and turned her back on the silent campsite.  
  
No worries. If they wanted to leave her behind, she'd show them. She'd make it back to the tree house, all right, and then she'd pack her belongings.  
  
Marguerite Krux wasn't one to stay where she wasn't wanted.  
  
"That's for damn sure," she muttered to herself, swallowing hard against the sudden lump that constricted her throat. Easing her pack over her uninjured shoulder, Marguerite stepped once more into the jungle and began her long journey home.  
  
End Part Two 


	3. Open Wounds

A/N: Okay... I've figured it out... you guys are feeding my muse with all your ever so kind reviews. :D Thank you all so much. Especially dear Veggie... with all your wonderful comments and help along the way. :D  
  
A/N 2: Nope, not explained in this chapter either... but hey, at least *I* know what's going on. :D Don't worry, don't worry, I'll let you all in on the joke eventually. :D Keep in mind that I'm bouncing time with each character in this... to cover the same period of time, I have to go back and forth with the characters in each scene... so some things Challenger and Veronica are doing are a half hour before something Roxton is doing until they overlap into the same time period. Hope it makes sense. :D  
  
A/N 3: Don't count on Part Four being out tomorrow... I'll *try*, I do promise that, but I've got a full work day ahead of me, and the only reason this part got finished so fast is because I had the store to myself for a few hours this morning. Either way, it'll be out by Monday evening for sure. :D  
  
Disclaimer: See Part One   
  
  
Phased and Confused   
  
Part Three: Open Wounds  
  
By: Danae Bowen  
  
Email: logansfox@rogers.com  
  
  
  
She was cold and tired; her body shivered from the tips of her ears right down to the bottom of her toes and she couldn't do anything to stop it. As she walked, she swore she heard a crackling behind her on the trail, but when she turned, there was nothing.   
  
"Idle whimsy, Marguerite," she told herself bitterly, "He's not going to be coming for you any time soon."  
  
Choking back the emotional nausea that radiated through her, Marguerite forced her mind to a topic other than the Lord and hunter to whom she had stupidly given her heart. Rather than bear the emotional agony of memory, Marguerite concentrated on the physical pain spiraling through her torn body. The urge to stop and rest grew intense, even though she'd been traveling less than an hour, and Marguerite realized she was losing a lot of blood. Her camisole had soaked through, the sap from the leaves no longer helping to clot the flow, leaving the heiress surprisingly weak. She swallowed with difficulty, glancing around the now darkened jungle and knew she had to lie down and rest before she was overcome.   
  
It took less than a half hour to find a suitable clearing for Marguerite to spend the night, and very quickly she set out her bedroll, building a fire large enough only to keep her from feeling the absolute chill of the evening. Retrieving her canteen from her pack, she drank deeply of the tepid water within before stretching out on her stomach and closing her eyes. She'd eat in the morning, drink more in the morning. Right now all she wanted to do was sleep.  
  
******  
  
John spun in place, his brow deeply furrowed even as his teeth nervously worried his lip. He'd followed Challenger's tracks, soon realizing that not only was he following his elder, but also Veronica's tracks. Just as he'd expected, the path lead him back to the river bank, where again he found further footsteps of each of his companions marring the soft ground.  
  
"Challenger? Veronica?!" His voice carried far across the jungle as he desperately attempted to call attention to himself, but as before, his companions never answered.  
  
Swallowing nervously, Roxton turned back into the jungle. Tracking them in the dark would be next to impossible; he chose to stay the night at their makeshift campsite and return in the morning to follow the trail of his friends, wherever it may lead. His heart was heavy as he moved back through the jungle, his mind turning to Marguerite.  
  
It hit him then, pressing the air from his lungs, his heart suddenly hammering against his chest: he'd followed two sets of footprints to the riverbank. Challenger and Veronica. With the exception of the blood and scraps of blouse he'd found on the riverbank earlier, he'd seen no sign of Marguerite since this all began.  
  
Nausea welled in Roxton's throat as very slowly his fingers began to shake. His eyes closed briefly, his concentration forced on controlling his body's reaction to the concept that Marguerite could quite possibly be dead. A deep breath in. A slow breath out. Numbers from one to ten slowly dripped from his lips as he regained control of his rapid heartbeat and his mutinous lungs. A moment passed. Two moments. Three moments, and when he finally opened his eyes there was a gleam of desperation shining within their depths, but aside from the death grip Roxton held on his rifle, no further signs of distress were apparent.  
  
He forced himself to swallow once more, doubling his pace until he arrived back at their deserted camp. In the morning he would scan the area for signs of Marguerite. In the morning he would start out after whomever had taken her. In the morning he would find her, drag her into his arms and apologize for antagonizing her the day before. All he had to do now was close his eyes; once the sun came up, everything would be far clearer.  
  
*****  
  
"I don't know where she could have gone off to! I mean, I left her right here, and you know Marguerite, once she's sitting some place..."  
  
"Now, Veronica; the odds are very good that Roxton came upon her and has taken her back to camp." George Challenger felt the worry as it began to eat its way into his heart, still his voice remained calm even as his hand tightened on Veronica's shoulder, both as a lending of support, and receiving of it.  
  
"Then why didn't we pass them along the way? Marguerite was hurt pretty badly; we should be able to hear her whining all the way from camp if she were there. And why didn't Roxton fire off a shot to let us know there was trouble?" Veronica's frown was dark, her mind racing ahead even as the words stumbled from her lips. "Something's going on here, Challenger. This just isn't right. You didn't hear our shots, but Marguerite must have put five rounds into the raptors. Roxton came looking for us, but he never arrived. Marguerite swore she was going to stay here, but when we come back for her, she's gone. And nowhere is there a sign of struggle. Something is very wrong."  
  
Challenger immediately set out to once again reassure the girl that Roxton and Marguerite were likely just back at their camp when in the middle of opening his mouth he paused. He glanced around the riverbank, a frown darker than the plateau's worst storm front shadowing his face. At last, he nodded. "We'll return to camp for now, Veronica. If, once we arrive, there still appears to be no sign of either Roxton or Marguerite, we'll worry." His expression turned thoughtful as his head turned upwards to take in the almost invisible moon. "I do wonder, however..." he mumbled to himself, hardly aware that he'd spoken aloud.  
  
"What, Challenger? What do you wonder?" Veronica jumped on the older man's musing much as a drowning person would a lifeline.   
  
Challenger stroked his chin softly before turning his attention back to the blonde girl waiting impatiently for a response. "Hmm? Oh, it's nothing, my dear, I'm sure. Come now, time for rest. In the morning we'll begin the search once more."  
  
Veronica gave one last glance over her shoulder before issuing a heavy sigh and following Challenger back into the jungle. Something just wasn't adding up, not to Veronica, and a quick glance at the red headed man in front of her told her it wasn't adding up to Challenger either. She set her jaw in determination and silently vowed that come sunup, she and Challenger would find out what happened to their missing companions.  
  
*****  
  
Sometime after dark, Roxton woke sharply, his consciousness sure there was someone else in the camp with him. Remaining motionless, the hunter listened carefully, isolating small sounds from the normal jungle noises. Bushes moved as though someone were moving through them, and in moments of silence, Roxton could swear he heard whispers of conversation. His hand moved quietly to his nearby gun, pulling it close to his body even as he scanned the darkness around him for any sign of movement.   
  
Shadows flickered, nothing more.  
  
His eyes quickly flickered off to the side of the camp, noticing instantly the fire blazing in the pit he'd begun to clear earlier. He frowned. He'd not started the fire when he returned, rather, closed his eyes and forced sleep upon himself so that he'd be ready for a daybreak start to his latest expedition. As quietly as possible he climbed to his feet, keeping low to the ground as he moved across the clearing to the fire. New grass was crushed under the weight of a human body, but Roxton found no one in the immediate area. He frowned, shaking his head even as the feeling of not being alone grew stronger. A moment later his eyes tracked across the clearing to rest upon a pack other than his own. He frowned. Challenger's. Sometime during the night, Challenger had returned to the campsite only to leave once more.   
  
Roxton turned in a circle, once again scanning the tree line for signs of movement. "Challenger!!!" His voice echoed back to him, but no response came from the scientist. Agitated and distraught, Roxton poked at the fire angrily, sending sparks flying through the clearing before he tossed another piece of wood into the midst and slumped to the ground.  
  
For the rest of the night he remained awake, leaning against a fallen tree, staying near the fire for warmth. At one point he may have dozed off as he imagined he heard Veronica and Challenger quietly discussing Marguerite's disappearance, but when his eyes flew open, everything was quiet and he remained alone.  
  
*****  
  
"I just don't get it! If Marguerite was here, why would she leave again?" Veronica shook her head in exasperation, her eyes pinned to the spot where Marguerite's pack had rested when she and Challenger left.  
  
Challenger shrugged helplessly, for he too had noticed Marguerite's missing belongings, along with the fact Roxton's pack had been moved and his bedroll set out upon the ground. "Thieves perhaps?" he mused quietly.  
  
"Then why is nothing gone? Nobody just moves a pack and lays out a bedroll!" She spoke more harshly than she'd intended, and instantly flashed Challenger a look of apology.  
  
"Veronica, I have no more answers than you right now. When the sun comes up we'll examine the local area and see if we can find any signs of what's going on. Until then, please, try to relax. As it stands, it appears tomorrow will be a very long day." Challenger eased back against a nearby fallen log, running his hands over his face, taking comfort in the warmth of the newly built fire. For a long while Veronica sat along side him, their voices quiet in the cool night as they mulled over what could have happened to Roxton and Marguerite. At one point Veronica forced a grin to her face, nudging Challenger in the side.  
  
"You don't suppose this is a ploy to allow them some privacy, do you?" She tried to keep her tone light, tried to make Challenger chuckle in the wake of all they were facing, but her smile didn't mask the deep worry in her lovely eyes.  
  
Still, Challenger allowed himself a moment to smile, shaking his head. "If it turns out that's all this is, then rest assured, Veronica, I'll be using both their heads in my next experiment." He glanced at her, offering her one final weak joke. "You wouldn't happen to care for a brunette wig, now would you?"  
  
The smile that crossed her face was less forced this time, but still, Veronica's heart was heavy. It was a cold, dark night to be out alone, especially with Marguerite wounded. Contrary to her generally patient nature, Veronica only hoped daybreak would come quickly so she and Challenger could begin the search anew.  
  
*****  
  
Marguerite awoke just before dawn, a groan of pain crossing her lips. Sometime during the night her wounds had grown worse, and now, rather than the dull ache that plagued her the evening before, a deep heat burned across her back making the strong woman whimper.  
  
Her breathing came in short gasps, her camisole cutting tightly against her ribs. She thought of loosening the straps, easing the pressure on her lungs, but the agony of movement deterred her from acting. If she'd have thought to check, Marguerite would realize she had a fever, her normally pale complexion flushed with the heat pooling within her body. Instead, she forced herself to her feet, biting back the tears that threatened to spill from her cloudy gray eyes and turned her gaze skyward.  
  
When the horizon grew light, showing her which direction was east, she clutched her fingers around her pack's straps and stubbornly set one foot in front of the other.  
  
"Rome wasn't built in a day, Marguerite," she whispered to herself, her nails digging deep into the palms of her hand as she forced herself to continue on. "If it takes you four days rather than two, you will reach the tree house. Patience. Always patience and will." She lifted her chin, gazing into the beautiful red sun as it climbed higher in the sky, its color growing lighter, and the jungle growing brighter. "Never got anywhere in life waiting for someone to come for you. One foot after the other, Marguerite, and you will get there."  
  
Her one sided conversation continued, her voice comforting her, giving her the strength she needed to push past the pain and fever ravaging her body. The dark haired heiress was determined to make it home, if only to look the others in the eye and prove she didn't need a damn one of them.  
  
"Patience and will."  
  
****  
  
End Part Three 


	4. Festering Wounds

A/N: Again, thank you all for your kind reviews; I do so appreciate it from each and every one of you. I'd thank each of you separately, but I think you'd all be more interested in reading the fic than endless pages of thank yous. :D Oh, and, Antea? Don't worry: yes, it's weird, yes, it's part of the story, yes, it's confusing, but I promise, there is an explanation. ;)  
  
A/N 2: Nope, the mystery isn't quite revealed today, but we're leading up to it. I'm sure it won't take Challenger much longer to tell everyone what's happening, after all, Veronica's just as curious as all of you. :D I do hope the ending of this chapter, however, will make certain peeps feel a bit better.  
  
A/N 3: Hopefully will have the next part out by Sunday night, if not you can expect it by Monday night. Really depends on how much time I have tomorrow. :D  
  
Disclaimer: See Part One  
  
  
  
Phased and Confused  
  
Part Four: Festering Wounds  
  
By: Danae Bowen  
  
Email: logansfox@rogers.com  
  
  
  
The sun was barely above the horizon as Roxton retraced his steps back to the riverbank. Knowing that the start of this entire disaster was when the women left to go swimming, the river seemed the obvious choice as a point of reference.  
  
His step was heavy as he moved through the jungle, his keen eyes aware of each and every broken branch and patch of crushed grass indicating the passage of one or more people. When he arrived at the riverbank, he moved instantly to the carnage left by the women, taking note of the bullet trajectory in each raptor, leading him to the spot where Marguerite and Veronica defended themselves against the onslaught. From there he managed to follow Marguerite's trail to the river, taking in the formation of grass from where she'd sat so long waiting for Veronica's return. Putting the whereabouts of Veronica and Challenger to the side for the moment, Roxton traced Marguerite's footprints back into the jungle, arriving back at the campsite. He nodded.  
  
"So far so good, old boy," he muttered to himself, following Marguerite's trail to the center of camp, only to instantly frown as he caught sight of the irregular depression in the wild grass. She'd fallen, that was clear, but moments later her trail continued. An expression of deathly determination crossed his features as he slipped out of the campsite and deep into the jungle trees. The sun was bright as he traveled into it, his eyes squinting against the rays his battered hat couldn't quite fully shadow, but still he continued on.   
  
The heat of the day wore into him by the time he came upon Marguerite's makeshift campsite, and he sat a moment by the charred remains of her fire, taking a deep swallow from his canteen. His gaze was instantly drawn to a darker patch of dirt, the crushed grass around the stain showing him that this was where his love had rested the night previous. Fear gnawed at him as he forced himself closer to the discolored earth, pinching several grains between his fingers and raising them to his nose. Blood.   
  
"Where are you, Marguerite?" His voice was calm and low even through the intense fear clutching at him. He'd known she was wounded, but to be bleeding this heavily so long after the attack...   
  
Roxton cut off the thought before it could grow into the debilitating worry that came over him only when Marguerite was in danger. Never in his life had he been faced with such a need to protect anyone; never in his life had he been faced with someone with so little need to be protected. Marguerite faced life as she lived it, full on with no fear of what may lie around the next corner. Everything that happened to her, Marguerite always managed to take in stride. Roxton was unsure how she did it, could never quite understand how deeply his love buried the pain she felt from actions of the past, but every day he grew to respect her and love her that much more. That is where his need to protect her originated; she'd been through so much hurt in her life that Marguerite should have nothing but happiness from this point forward, and Roxton was damned determined to make sure she received everything he felt she deserved.  
  
Swallowing back the water that now rested as a lump in his throat, Roxton quickly readjusted his pack on his shoulder and slung his rifle so that it was within easy reach should he run into any danger. His eyes hardened as he picked out Marguerite's unsteady trail, and he began tracking her anew.  
  
****  
  
Warm fingers traveled down Marguerite's back as she rested her head in her hands. His hot breath blew across her exposed neck, her hair sliding to the side to allow him the access she so craved. Gentle shivers coursed through her tired body as his calloused flesh eased the tension from her frame and new sensation burned as his lips lowered to taste her warm skin.  
  
A soft whimper escaped her lips as she tightened her hands against her head, willing the distraction of pain away as she forced her full concentration onto Roxton's sweet touch. Soothing words filled her mind, Roxton's low voice comforting the wounded heiress.  
  
A crackle of branches behind her drew Marguerite's attention back to reality, snapping through the sweet delusion of Roxton's care. She dragged her exhausted body back to her feet, glancing to the trail behind her in concern. Her fingers instantly moved to her gun, struggling to pull it free from her holster, her aim less than steady as she watched the trail in a cloudy daze. A dark shadow cut across the trail fifty meters behind her; Marguerite's reaction was slow, delayed by the fever eating away at her mind, and by the time she pulled the trigger the shadow had once again disappeared into the cover of the jungle trees.  
  
Shaken, Marguerite turned away once more, her eyes traveling to the sky. Instead of seeing one sun, however, three suns burned hotly down upon her from three separate directions. Frowning, Marguerite blinked and tried to clear her vision, but the three suns remained. With a sigh, Marguerite chose the brightest sun and continued her trek in its direction.  
  
******  
  
Roxton's head shot up, his eyes moving to the horizon hidden behind the jungle trees as the sound of a gunshot rang out nearby. He paused a moment, his keen ears instantly turning him in the direction of the shot, and seconds later he was moving through the jungle at a full run.  
  
He crashed through the underbrush, leaping haphazardly over any obstacle in his way, certain that Marguerite was only a few kilometers ahead of him. Branches and twigs cut at his face and arms as he dashed between trees, his usual stealth abandoned as his first real contact with Marguerite in over twelve hours dangled precariously before him.  
  
Regardless of how fast he ran, the space between them seemed to take an eternity to decrease, and by the time he reached the bullet shattered stump of a thin tree, Roxton was completely out of breath. He gasped loudly, leaning against the ruined bark for support as he drew precious oxygen into his complaining lungs, but the hunter paid no heed to his over worked body. Instead, the only thought in his mind was that Marguerite had to be nearby. Judging by the weaving easterly path he'd been following, she was attempting to return to the tree house but her pain was growing worse. Twice in the time he'd been tracking her did he find evidence that Marguerite had stopped to rest, her stamina lower than was normal, even for the feisty heiress. Twice he'd found drying blood staining the bark of trees, and sometimes the ground beneath where she sat, proving just how dire Marguerite's condition was becoming. What worried Roxton further, however, were the tracks of a small dinosaur that had infringed upon Marguerite's trail; the reptile had picked up the scent of her blood during her last rest and now the hunter was joined by the predator in the search for a certain raven-haired beauty.  
  
Judging by the tracks on the path, Marguerite had finally caught sight of the creature. The small reptile had veered off into the jungle, but from the every day sounds of the wildlife around him, Roxton figured it was long gone. Frowning, Roxton lowered his eyes to the ground once more, noticing Marguerite's deterrence from her original path. His frown deepened. The new direction she had chosen was leading her not only away from the tree house, but also deep into T-Rex territory. Bleeding as badly as she was, it wouldn't be long before Marguerite found herself in more trouble than it appeared she could feasibly handle.  
  
Roxton groaned, lifting his hat from his head, and ran his hands through his short dark hair. Replacing the hat, Roxton gripped his rifle with a sure hold, ducked his head, and disappeared into the jungle.  
  
*****  
  
"Marguerite."  
  
Her name whispered past his lips, warming her suddenly chilled flesh as she moved through the dense foliage. She pushed her attention away from his voice, trying to focus on placing her feet where stones and fallen branches couldn't force her to her knees, or worse.  
  
"Marguerite."   
  
The whisper became more insistent, and Marguerite brushed her hand across her neck, waving away the buzz of some persistent bug. Silently she cursed what she now realized was delusion. The flesh on her back was burning, swelling, aching and Marguerite knew the crawling she could feel within the wound was infection. She swallowed back the despair that threatened her as she realized the tree house was still far away and she was growing weaker with each passing minute. Fighting pain and fatigue, she mused, was far easier when one had the support of friends.  
  
"Marguerite!"  
  
Her hand again brushed against her ear, succeeding only in pushing her damp hair into her eyes. Still, as she spun in place, struggling against the weight of her pack combined with the distraction of her hair, she caught sight of the dark shadow that had been tracking her once more.   
  
"No!" she hissed softly, unwilling to become the first course in some dinosaur's dinner. She withdrew her gun, her fingers trembling so terribly that the weapon tumbled to the ground with a metallic ring as it struck a nearby stone. "Please!" Marguerite's plea, whispered in desperation, fell on deaf ears even as Marguerite fell to her knees, reaching for her gun and clutching it to her chest. The dark shadow grew closer, forcing the ill heiress to take a weak aim at something she could hardly see.  
  
She closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on controlling her shaking limbs as she steadied her hand. When she opened her eyes the form was closer, and Marguerite swallowed deeply. Her unsure vision blurred the creature until she could see little more than it's outline, but it was enough for her to pull the trigger.  
  
One shot.  
  
Two.  
  
Three shots rang out before Marguerite's hand fell to the ground, her body screaming with agony brought on by the force of the kick back from her weapon. She whimpered quietly, tears filling her eyes as she could barely bring her hand back to her lap for the all encompassing pain that could no longer be ignored.  
  
"Marguerite!"  
  
Knowing how far she was from home, knowing that whatever infection had taken hold of her was ravaging her body and mind far more quickly than could be fought, knowing that her "family" had left her to this, Marguerite's will fled from her body. She folded over before she realized she'd even moved, her head striking the hard dirt, her knees pulling to her chest until she was curled into herself.   
  
Her last conscious thought was of the dark form standing still in front of her. It moved towards her and she felt herself being lifted from the ground, a great tearing agony ripping shrill screams from her throat even as her mind descended into the welcome comfort of black.  
  
*****  
  
"Here, Veronica. That's right, place that flag right on that spot." George Challenger's eyes cast a brilliant light as his gaze transferred from the jungle ground to the sun in the sky. "Yes, yes. We're definitely on to something here." He took three steps to the west, watching as the sunlight cut a direct path through the murky under shadows of the foliage.  
  
"Challenger, I still don't understand."  
  
"Never mind about that now, just keep placing those flags where I tell you. Quickly, now. One right there." Challenger pointed to a new spot on the ground; Veronica sighed but dutifully placed the marker in its assigned location.  
  
The day passed in near silence as Challenger moved about the clearing, Veronica following closely, posting flags until they had a direct line following the path formed by the sun. Each time the shadows edged backwards the space of a foot Challenger would issue another marker. Soon the jungle between their campsite and the riverbank was divided by a straight diagonal line beginning at the top of the path Marguerite and Veronica had taken the day before, ending at the entrance to the jungle through which Veronica had left the river bank mere hours later.   
  
"Yes, yes." Challenger muttered to himself, puttering along the line of markers, careful to stay on a single side as he examined the times written on each flag. "Yes. You and Marguerite would have stepped across the barrier here at exactly the right time. Veronica, look, you crossed the barrier here at approximately this time. By crossing it a second time, you crossed back, but Marguerite took your original path back to the camp, crossing the barrier at the wrong time. It all makes sense!"  
  
Veronica stared at Challenger, a blank expression on her face; nothing the older man was saying made sense, but the blonde knew better than to argue. Whenever this level of excitement took hold of the scientist, every one of the explorers knew to just stand back, trust, and know that the explanation would come once he'd proven his point. A small smile crossed Veronica's face as she watched him work; trusting in Challenger had saved each of their lives more times than she could count, but it didn't prevent a few minor explosions along the way.  
  
Leaving the scientist to finish studying his line of flags, Veronica returned to their camp and brought to life a new fire. The least she could do was have something ready for him to eat when he was finally ready to talk.  
  
*****  
  
Roxton's heart beat a painful rhythm in his chest, a tightness clutching at his throat he'd never before known as he rushed towards Marguerite's broken form lying on the jungle ground. He dropped to his knees beside her, instantly reaching down to pull her body into his arms. He didn't even have the time to say her name before her body turning suddenly stiff in his embrace took him aback, her sharp painful cries piercing the jungle air. Nothing, not even when he'd finally come upon the missing woman only to have her turn against him, emptying her gun into the space near his head, could have shocked him more than her reaction to being held.   
  
"Marguerite?" Tears filled Roxton's eyes as the heiress passed out against him, and very gently he leaned her against his chest. Instantly he moved his hands to her shoulders, realizing he'd unconsciously increased her pain when he'd brushed his hands across her back. Regret flashed through his eyes as he gentled his grip upon her. "It's all right now, my love, I'm here and we're going to get you home." He lowered his lips to her forehead, pressing a soft kiss against her fevered skin before carefully placing her back upon the ground. "I swear."  
  
End Part Four 


	5. Healing Wounds

A/N: Sorry this took so long, folks... it's been a rather interesting week to say the least. Had a friend decide to kill himself last week, which really took the gusto out of my writing for a while. Add onto that work pressures which have increased ten fold until tomorrow at least and there was just no chance to sit down and write. Anyhow, hopefully this has all passed and I'll be able to get back down to writing again.  
  
A/N 2: Whoo hoo, an explanation!! Yep, folks, you heard it here... today we know what's happening! :D  
  
Disclaimer: Please see part one.  
  
  
  
Phased and Confused  
  
Part Five: Healing Wounds  
  
By: Danae Bowen  
  
Email: logansfox@rogers.com  
  
  
Lord John Roxton was a strong man, put a task in front of him and he would risk life and limb to ensure that task was complete. He'd hunted every creature worth hunting; he'd killed creatures long believed extinct. He'd faced death more days than he cared to admit; he'd laughed in her face, literally. He had been through everything life could throw at him and come out the victor, but, now, his hands trembled.  
  
When Marguerite passed out, Roxton carefully laid her on her stomach, gently cutting what remained of her shirt and camisole away from her inflamed flesh. Even unconscious, Marguerite whimpered quietly, breaking Roxton's heart. The sight of her back terrified him; the flesh was an angry red and badly swollen; where her flesh was torn was very slowly turning a darker shade than the rest of her body and Roxton realized that if they weren't able to get her properly treated within a few hours, nothing would be able to repair the damage.  
  
Reaching into his pack, Roxton withdrew the jar of healing balm Challenger had wisely suggested they bring. The smell of the contents caused the hunter to wince in distaste, but that didn't stop him from dipping his hands into the container and begin spreading liberal amounts across Marguerite's angry wounds. He wasn't sure if the balm would help with infection, Challenger and Veronica were far better with potions than he, but he figured its healing attributes couldn't hurt at this point.  
  
When Marguerite's flesh was fully covered, Roxton caringly bandaged her body with clean cloth strips made from one of his shirts. He despaired over turning her onto her back, but he also realized with the amount of blood she had lost in the previous twelve hours he needed to make sure she drank of the fresh water he had in his canteen. He lifted her gently back into his arms, resting her wounded back against his chest as easily as possible. The renewed pain in her wounds brought a moan to Marguerite's lips, her eyelids fluttering as consciousness was forced upon her.  
  
"Easy now, Marguerite," Roxton murmured softly. "You've taken quite the beating in the last while." Quickly reaching around her to uncap his canteen, Roxton brought the canister to her lips, urging her with quiet persistence to drink from the cool liquid within.  
  
"Roxton?"   
  
He winced at the pain and confusion in her voice, but brought a smile to his lips all the same. "At your service, m'lady, as always."  
  
She shook her head weakly, bringing her hand up to push the canteen from her lips. "You're not here. You're off with the others, probably still laughing about poor dumb Marguerite, who couldn't see when she wasn't wanted. Well I see, and I can take care of myself."  
  
A frown crossed Roxton's lips even as his arms occupied themselves with keeping the now struggling heiress in his embrace. "Relax, Marguerite. No one is laughing, I can guarantee you that. I've been looking for you since you disappeared at the beach; I promise you I haven't stopped looking but for sleep."  
  
Again she shook her head, her hands clutching at his forearms with a lack of strength that nearly broke the hunter's heart. "You didn't come looking; I waited for hours and no one came. I went to the camp and you had all left me there to die."  
  
"Please, Marguerite, I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you, but I'm here now. Please let me help you."  
  
"You can't help me," she flashed him a sad smile, "You see, I'm dying now."  
  
"No!" His voice was harsh, causing her eyes to flash open and clarity to break through the fog separating them.  
  
"Roxton?"  
  
"I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere." He pulled her tightly to his chest, keeping a careful eye on her wounds. When her lips curved into a true smile, the knowledge that Roxton was indeed holding her firmly engrained into her tired mind, Marguerite nodded, her eyelids fluttering shut once again.  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"I wouldn't dream of leaving."  
  
*****  
  
When Marguerite awoke again, the sun had long since set and she found herself wrapped securely in a warm blanket, a fire burning close by. Her mind was fogged by fever, leaving her unsure as to what had passed since she'd fired her gun at whatever had been following her earlier. Vague impressions of warm arms and gentle words floated through her murky thoughts and instantly Marguerite sighed. As pleasant as her delusions of Roxton were, she cursed them; they lulled her into comfort and distracted her from everything else. Even now, as she pulled herself into a sitting position, hissing with the pain of her wounds, she found none of her surroundings were even vaguely familiar.   
  
She moved a hand to her aching head, quickly attempting to gather her thoughts as she once again glanced at the area around her. Long moments passed before she realized her back was wrapped in fresh bandages and the constant crawl in her flesh had diminished noticeably. Instantly, she frowned. A tiny spot of hope began to form in her wounded heart and something grew bright in Marguerite's trouble filled eyes.   
  
"Roxton?" Her voice was no more than a whisper, a harsh grinding coming from a paper dry throat. With effort she forced herself to swallow and quickly ran her tongue over her lips. "Roxton?" This time her voice was stronger, even as the dark haired beauty gathered up the entirety of her will and pulled herself to her feet.  
  
If he actually was with her the night before, then he promised not to leave. He had to be close by.  
  
"ROXTON!!!"  
  
Almost instantly came the crunch of nearby branches, and Marguerite spun around, gripping a tree for support as her head spun and her vision swam gray. She waited, her body rigid with tension, but when a familiar hat followed by a much-loved form appeared from the jungle, Marguerite couldn't control the beautiful smile that crossed her face. Relief flooded over her, and before she knew what was happening, her knees buckled.   
  
Roxton's grin at seeing her on her feet instantly faded as he moved quickly to her side, catching her a moment before she hit the ground. "You're still weak, Marguerite, no need to go pushing yourself just yet." He smiled down at her tenderly as her hand came up to softly touch his cheek.  
  
"You're really here? I thought I was dreaming again." She whispered softly, allowing him to draw her onto his lap and hold her close.  
  
"After all these years, Marguerite, I thought you'd learned to take me at my word. I promised I'd be here, did I not?"  
  
With a sigh, Marguerite smiled. "I know, John."  
  
He gave a low chuckle and lowered his chin to her head for a moment before leaning back. "Now, let's have a look at those wounds, shall we?"  
  
****  
  
George Challenger paced the line of poles and flags, mumbling to himself as he studied the angle of the sun in the sky. Veronica watched him closely, frowning each time the older man paused and shifted a pole millimeters from one side to the next. She was watching him so closely that when he finally yelled out, she jumped in surprise, half reaching for her knife before she realized that Challenger was merely ready to proceed.  
  
"You wanted an explanation, Veronica, and I believe you're just about to have it." He motioned her over to his side, positioning her so that she was standing facing his profile. "Watch carefully just as the sun hits this line." He chewed the inside of his lip, timing his movements precisely as he very slowly extended his arm across the line of flags.   
  
Veronica's eyes opened widely and her gasp echoed across the jungle as she leapt forward, held back only by Challenger's free hand. "Challenger, your arm!"  
  
"It's all right, Veronica. Here, see?" Just as slowly he pulled his arm back across the line of flags.  
  
"But, how? I mean, is that possible?"  
  
Challenger gave Veronica a small smile. "From our time on the Plateau, Veronica, I have learned that nearly anything is quite possible."  
  
Again he extended his arm across the line of flags, watching with rapt interest as first his fingers, then his hand and then the entire part of his arm on the other side of the sun line shimmered and disappeared. Moving with the slowly shifting sun line, Challenger carefully maneuvered until his entire body crossed the dividing line and he completely vanished.  
  
"Challenger?!" Veronica called out in alarm, moving quickly to the edge of the flags, careful not to step across. "Challenger! Can you hear me?"  
  
She jumped back in surprise as Challenger's head shimmered and appeared, completely disembodied. "It's unbelievable, Veronica! My theory was completely correct!"  
  
"Yeah, something I'm still waiting to be explained," she muttered quietly, disturbed by Challenger's seemingly floating head.  
  
"Oh, my apologies!" With a shake of his disembodied head, Challenger re-crossed the line and joined Veronica. For a moment his body shimmered translucently, and then solidified. Challenger's face broke into a wide grin as he patted down his limbs, assuring Veronica he was all there before he finally began to explain what was happening.  
  
"If you look closely at the ground directly along the line of the flags, you'll notice a layer of crystallized rock." At that, Veronica glanced down, surprised to find Challenger was completely correct. "I, myself, didn't notice it at first, however, when I began to consider why it was we were finding traces and tracks of the others but no physical presence, it all started to fall into place. This line is a solar barrier, the one place where each and every day the sun will cross, creating a wall of light for the same brief moments. Over the years, this area has become sensitive to the Plateau's shifting planes, using this solar barrier as a dimensional break."  
  
Veronica blinked, staring at the jungle around her before finally returning her gaze to Challenger. "So Roxton and Marguerite have been transported to a different dimension?"  
  
"Not exactly. I believe this line to be a solar phase barrier. It's not something at all proven in the scientific community, but then, nothing on this Plateau has been." When Veronica's expression remained blank, Challenger sighed. "Some radical theorists believe the universe to be separated not only into different dimensions, but different phases of reality. Basically, Roxton and Marguerite could be standing right in front of us at this moment but we wouldn't be able to see them as they would be in a different phase. Every static object, thereby trees, bodies, bags, and so forth would be visible and accessible in each different phase, but each moving object, as in people and live animals would not."  
  
"So, they can't see us, and we can't see them... which is going to make it very hard to tell them how to cross back."  
  
"Exactly, my dear." Challenger frowned. "How badly was Marguerite injured?"  
  
Veronica shrugged. "Her cuts were pretty deep, but as long as she keeps them treated and wrapped she should be fine."  
  
Challenger lifted an eyebrow. "And did she have any balm with her when you left?"  
  
The blonde jungle girl grew pale as she looked up at the older man in front of her. "No. I only left her with some sap to help clot."  
  
"So nothing to fight infection?"  
  
Veronica shook her head, her eyes wide. "No, Roxton had it in his pack."  
  
"Then we can only hope that Roxton was able to find Marguerite in time. Raptor claws carry a great deal of infectious agents; decomposing flesh from past kills, tainted blood, too much for a simple human body to handle on its own."  
  
Veronica swallowed harshly, and took Challenger by the arm. "I showed her how to return to the tree house. She must have been heading in that direction. We need to get home and find some way to communicate with them. They need to know how to pass through this phase barrier or whatever it is."  
  
Challenger nodded. "As soon as we all return here, I can cross over the barrier and lead them back." Self-consciously he lifted his hand and ran it across his chin, comforting himself and his racing thoughts through the small action. "We can only hope we're in time to help Marguerite."  
  
Veronica quietly bit her lip. "Let's just hope Marguerite was smart enough to go home, or we'll never find them."  
  
****  
  
"Have the others gone back to the tree house?" Marguerite's imploring eyes found Roxton's gaze as he layered the thick balm over her pale flesh. The wounds on her back were less angry now, the purplish glint to their edges falling back to a more healthy red.  
  
"I haven't seen either of them since leaving to find you." He frowned. "They could quite conceivably be searching for us."  
  
Marguerite sighed, allowing herself to enjoy the feel of Roxton's soft touch as he moved away from her wounds and gently allowed his hands to glide down over her lower back then back up the sides of her arms. "John, I know I don't say it often enough, but I'm glad you're here."  
  
He smiled, leaning down to press his lips against the nape of her neck, careful of the healing wounds criss-crossing her back. "I'm glad to hear it, Marguerite." With one last soft kiss dropped on her ear, Roxton leaned away and began to re-bandage her back. "Take another few hours to rest now, and then we'll head back to camp and check for the others."  
  
Marguerite's smile was small, but a hint of her old sparkle reached her eyes as she allowed Roxton to pull her down into his embrace. She met his lips eagerly, allowing the sweetness of his kiss to wash over her, healing her in ways far better than the balm repairing her back.  
  
End Part Five 


	6. Closing In

A/N: Sorry this took so long folks... it's been a long hard few months in my world, unfortunately. Add in I was determined to finish my latest Farscape fiction before getting back to this... my muse can be a stubborn little tralk when she wants to be... and, well, Unfrozen took far longer than I had hoped. Please forgive me. I promise it will definitely not be another two months before the next part is written.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
  
  
Phased and Confused  
  
Part Six  
  
By: Danae Bowen  
  
Email: logansfox@rogers.com  
  
  
  
  
The trek back to camp took far longer than Roxton had hoped.   
  
When they'd awoken as the sun rose to burn the sky, Roxton and Marguerite paused only for a sip of water and a few bites of fruit before beginning their slow, and for Marguerite, painful walk across the rapidly warming jungle. Still weakened by her infection, Marguerite required far more rest stops than normal, slowing their progress even further. Concern tinged Roxton's expression each time he glanced back at her and found her brow drenched in sweat and a look of intense concentration on her face as she forced one foot in front of the other for countless kilometers.  
  
Hours had passed when Marguerite's vision began to swim before her, and suddenly unable to call for Roxton's help, she sagged heavily against a tree. Sliding to the ground, the rough bark of the tree scraping at her tender flesh, she whimpered and buried her face in her hands.  
  
Unaware of Marguerite's situation, Roxton continued onwards, painstakingly tracking the way back to the small lake where this had all began so few hours before. Five minutes passed before he looked over his shoulder to check Marguerite's progress and noticed her missing.   
  
"Marguerite? Marguerite!"   
  
He found her again, not far behind him on the trail, leaning her shoulder against a tree. As he approached, rather than the vehement look Roxton anticipated, Marguerite cast him a sheepish expression.   
  
"I know. I should have asked for a stop, you needn't remind me," she muttered quickly, instantly defensive against his look of reproach.   
  
Roxton shook his head quickly, softening his expression, trying to make her see that he was angry with himself rather than the wounded heiress. "Come now, Marguerite, you've never been shy about asking for breaks before, don't start now," he teased gently, lowering himself to sit beside her.   
  
"Are you in much pain?"  
  
She shrugged. "No worse, no better I suppose."  
  
"Shall I check your wrap?" His concerned expression was enough to force Marguerite to relent, sighing in defeat as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse.   
  
"You know, technically we would be considered married in some cultures," Marguerite quipped lightly as Roxton gently unwrapped her back. "The number of times I've removed my clothing for you over the years is growing indecent."  
  
"Yes, but I've been nothing but a gentleman," he smiled tightly, probing her wounds with gentle fingers.  
  
"On most occasions," she conceded.  
  
"Why, Marguerite, are you implying that I would have any motive for getting you out of your clothing beyond that of your continuing good health?" Roxton's eyes sparkled brilliantly, much relieved by the sight of healing flesh and Marguerite's good humor. Wasting no time, he generously began lathering a fresh layer of healing balm over her back, smothering a chuckle at her wince of distaste when the scent hit her nostrils.  
  
"When I smell this awful? Somehow I doubt it." She craned her neck, glancing over her shoulder at her troublesome back. A gasp passed her lips as she caught sight of the ruined flesh, horror filling her eyes. "My lord! Tell me that isn't as bad as it looks!"  
  
"It isn't as bad as it looks." His voice was even, his tone reassuring as he recapped the jar of balm and carefully began re-wrapping Marguerite's back.  
  
She bit her lip, turning away from the sight. "How can you stand to look at me? I'm going to be scarred for life!"  
  
"The scars should be minimal. It looks worse than it actually is due to the inflammation from the infection. Once the infection is completely gone, you'll begin to see a vast difference. I promise you, love, you'll hardly even notice once they've healed." He grinned. "Trust me; you've seen some of my scars."  
  
"That, Lord Roxton, is not a comforting thought."  
  
"Ah, but, Marguerite, I do quite well when it comes to gauging how poorly a wound will heal. Besides, you'll always be beautiful to me." With a final check of her wrap, he paused to drop a gentle kiss against her temple before rising to his feet. "Come on, now, put your shirt back on and we'll have something to eat before we start again."  
  
*****  
  
"We should have waited for them, Challenger. There had to be something we could do to get our message across without leaving them in the jungle."  
  
Challenger smiled tightly as he and Veronica continued their long journey across the plateau. "Returning to the tree house is our only viable option, Veronica. We need a haven where Roxton and Marguerite will feel comfortable enough to move about without gauging their actions. Once we begin to notice the movement of objects we ourselves have not touched, we will be aware of their presence and can begin putting our plan into motion."  
  
"And what exactly is our plan?"  
  
"To inform them of their situation and return to the solar phase barrier."  
  
"Great, so all we need to do is find a way to cross the phase barrier without actually crossing it, two days journey away from the thing, convince Roxton and Marguerite that we are who we say we are, get them to return to the exact place and exact time they were phased, and hope they cross over correctly?"  
  
"Now you're catching on." Challenger's small joke fell flat as Veronica's concerned expression never wavered. The professor sighed softly. "Veronica, this is our only option beyond one of us crossing the phase barrier and searching for Roxton and Marguerite on our own."  
  
"At least then we'd be doing something other than waiting. You've said it isn't dangerous, so I don't understand why we're heading home rather than doing what we know we can."  
  
"Veronica..."  
  
"Challenger, you know how highly I value your opinion, right?"  
  
"Of course, my dear."  
  
"Then please don't take offense when I say this, but this time you're wrong." Veronica sighed, running a hand through her hair as she stared out over the jungle. "We're running on the hope that Roxton finds Marguerite and they both return to the tree house, but you know Roxton as well as I do, and the first thing they're going to do is begin looking for us. Without knowing about the phase barrier, they'll only find us if they cross it unknowingly at exactly the right moment. The odds on that happening again are...?"  
  
"Incredible."  
  
"Exactly! But if we cross the barrier and actively search for them, we'll be able to find them and explain what's happened and bring them back to the barrier with half the trouble it would take to do things your way." She paused. "Besides, how were you hoping to contact them anyway? I don't think either of us is willing to touch that Ouija board again."  
  
Challenger sighed. "All right, Veronica, all right. Rather than take the journey to the tree house immediately, we'll give twenty-four hours to your plan. If we've not found them by dusk tomorrow, we cross back and return to the tree house." He caught her gaze, holding it steady. "Fair?"  
  
Slowly she nodded. "Fair."  
  
"Then we'd best be on our way back. At the rate the sun is falling, we may not be able to cross over until morning."  
  
"Let's just hope Roxton and Marguerite haven't gone very far."  
  
*******  
  
"Come on, Marguerite, not far now."  
  
"For God's sake, John, you said that two hours ago."  
  
Roxton glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "It kept you going, didn't it?"  
  
"Have I told you how amusing you are?"  
  
"Not lately."  
  
"Good."  
  
He chuckled and dropped his pace to walk along side her, relieved at her show of spirit. "This time it's the truth. The camp is just beyond that hillside. If you look at just the right moment, you can see the sun reflected off the lake you were bathing in. Another half an hour at most."  
  
Marguerite sighed and shifted her shoulders painfully. "Hopefully Challenger will have something more effective than that balm in his pack."  
  
"You're in pain again?" Roxton's voice was immediately morose, thinking he'd caused Marguerite's wounds to worsen yet again.  
  
"Just aching now," she comforted smoothly, for once ignoring the instinct to exaggerate her situation.  
  
Roxton's eyebrow lifted as he examined her features for any sign that she was covering any serious ailment, but she met his gaze with a smile and shrugged. "If we're only a half hour off, Roxton, why are we wasting time standing here talking?"  
  
With one last glance to make sure Marguerite was telling the truth, Roxton sighed and increased their pace yet again.  
  
True to his word, less than a half an hour later they walked into what used to be their camp, and a frown instantly crossed Roxton's face. "What the hell?"  
  
Where a day before packs and rolls, along with Challenger's equipment and their supplies had littered the small clearing, now there was nothing. Not even a depression in the grass indicated that someone had slept here for the previous two days.  
  
"Challenger!" Roxton called out into the dimming evening, expecting and receiving no response.  
  
Marguerite slowly shook her head. "I told you; they've gone back to the tree house and left us here."  
  
"Marguerite, stop. You know as well as I that if they realized we would come back here, they'd no more leave us then I'd leave you. If, and I do mean if, they've gone back to the tree house, they likely believe that is where we were headed after our separation. Otherwise, I'd wager they've moved on in their search for us."  
  
She clenched her jaw, biting back a scathing remark as she pondered Roxton's words. "Fine, but where does that leave us?"  
  
Roxton shrugged. "In the morning we'll head down to the lake and clean up, and then we'll start back to the tree house ourselves. If, as you say, Veronica and Challenger have returned home, I'm sure we'll each have a few interesting stories to share at the very least."  
  
"You are a trusting fool, Lord Roxton."  
  
The hunter moved to Marguerite's side, slipping a finger under her chin to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. "You could learn a lesson or two from me, Ms. Krux," he muttered softly, surprising the dark haired beauty with a gentle kiss. "See where trust can lead?"  
  
"Hmm, yes, just as I supposed: lost in the jungle, abandoned by friends and family to be fed upon by raptors. Trust is a wonderful thing."  
  
"Marguerite..." Roxton began, exasperation clear in his every tone until the woman before him broke into soft laughter.  
  
"Roxton, I'm joking." True to her words her eyes sparkled brightly, and even Roxton had to laugh a moment as he shook his head. "Now, as long as the great hunter has no other plans for our evening, I'm going to sleep."  
  
Lifting an eyebrow, his eyes danced with humor. "Now that you mention it..."   
  
"You'll be happy to take first watch? Lovely." She grinned. "Goodnight, John."  
  
"Goodnight, Marguerite."  
  
******  
  
"They've been here, haven't they?" Veronica's voice betrayed her sudden excitement as she glanced around the disheveled camp they'd left spotless that afternoon.  
  
"I'd wager they are still here, my dear." Challenger's tone matched Veronica's for pleasure. "It would appear you were right, Veronica. Had we gone back to the tree house we'd have missed them entirely."  
  
"Now that we have them, though, what do we do? I mean, we can't cross over until dawn at the earliest..."  
  
"Then I suggest we get some sleep. As soon as possible we cross the barrier and bring our friends home."  
  
Veronica smiled beautifully, glancing up at the sky now filled with brilliant spots of light. She'd never admit it to the others, but each time they were separated a slow fear grew in the jungle girl's heart that they'd not see each other again. Her parent's disappearance spawned that fear at an early age, but now, with the end of their latest adventure in sight, the clenching inside her began to ease. In the morning they'd find Roxton and Marguerite and her world would be set right again.  
  
Challenger watched the emotions cross the young woman's face, and smiled softly to himself. Perhaps they all realized that they'd filled a spot in Veronica's life she barely even realized was empty, but never so much as the professor understood now. Perhaps in the future he'd find an extra hour here and there to spend with the girl and encourage the others to do the same.  
  
A tender smile softened Veronica's features as she caught Challenger watching her, and she shook her head, looping an arm through his as they turned back to camp. Then again, Challenger supposed, perhaps the extra time wasn't needed. He matched Veronica's smile and gently gave the girl's hand a quick pat before they both settled down for the night's rest.   
  
Perhaps just having everyone together was enough for them all.  
  
  
End Part Six. 


End file.
